15. Anson
Soundsfrom outside the Victorian had me glancing out the window and scanning the makeshift parking area. It was just two of our guys shooting the shit on their break. Still no Shep.
“Dude.” A voice broke into my thoughts. “What’s your deal today?” Silas asked.
I sprayed the mix of chemicals on the framing that would help counteract the scent the smoke had left behind, even after all these years. “Just need to talk to Shep about something.”
Silas’s brows pulled together as he stopped his work. “Everything okay?”
I nodded with a grunt. But everything was far from okay. I’d found a string of five fires around the time of the one here at the Victorian that had me on edge. It was too many for a small town like Sparrow Falls.
“He probably just wants to crawl up Shep’s ass a little more,” Owen grumbled from the other side of the room.
He said it loud enough that he knew I’d be sure to hear it, which took some doing when we were all wearing N95 masks. My eyes narrowed on Owen. He’d made it clear he wasn’t happy with my being in charge or his assignment of pulling drywall. But it was getting old, fast.
“Stop acting like a two-year-old who had his binky taken away,” I snapped. “You don’t want to do your job? Quit. It would probably make this restoration go quicker.”
Owen straightened, the red on his cheeks peeking out from around his mask. “I can’t have an opinion now? You’re wasting our fucking time working on areas that don’t need work.”
My back teeth ground together. It was the same argument we’d been having all day. “Next piece of drywall you pull, take off your mask and smell the damn framing. Then tell me if you still think it doesn’t need to be treated.”
“Whatever,” Owen mumbled, turning back to his work.
Carlos shook his head as he pulled a sheet of drywall. Lowering his voice, he said, “This restoration stuff isn’t his gig. He’s more into building from the ground up.”
“Then he should walk,” I snapped.
God, I was a prick. Everything about my discoveries from last night had set me on edge. I was probably the one who needed to walk away from the site today.
The sound of tires on gravel had me looking up. Shep’s silver truck headed down the driveway. Finally.
“I’ll be back,” I told Silas and Carlos.
Silas gave me a chin lift in answer and turned back to his work.
I picked my way through the house, making sure to be careful where I stepped. Much of my path was pulled-up flooring that revealed the framework below. We’d placed boards that we could walk across, but you still needed to be cautious.
When I made it outside, I yanked off my mask and sucked in the fresh mountain air. A slight hint of smoke clung to it, likely stirred up by all our work. As Shep climbed out of his truck, I strode across the parking lot toward him.
“How’s it going?” he asked as I approached.
“It’s going. It’d be a hell of a lot quicker if Owen wasn’t moaning and complaining the whole time.”
Shep winced. “Sometimes, he’s a great worker. Others, he’s a liability. I don’t get it.”
“Control issues,” I muttered.
Shep raised a brow in question.
Sometimes, I hated that I couldn’t turn off the profiler part of me. The piece that analyzed everything and everyone. “He does well when he has tasks he feels in control of. When he has autonomy. But he just doesn’t know enough to get those assignments on a restoration. So, he’s throwing a fit.”
Shep frowned as he stared at the house, almost like he could see Owen through the walls. “I could move him to another project. We’ve got plenty.”
“Might be a mistake. He’s gotta learn to do the things he doesn’t want to do.”
“True enough,” Shep mumbled and then looked at me. “Something else?”
He always knew when I had something on my mind. I didn’t typically hover and didn’t seek out conversation. I liked to do my work in silence. It was almost meditative. I could pound out the demons while working this job.
“Did Rhodes play a spring sport in middle school? Before the fire, I mean.”
Shep blinked a few times, confusion clear on his face. “Uh, yeah. She and Fallon played lacrosse in the seventh grade. They were both awful.”
I wanted to smile at that. I could so clearly see her all smiles and trying with everything she had but being an absolute disaster on the field. But the fact that she would’ve frequented that locker room around the time of the fire swallowed all my humor in a single second.
“Did she spend a lot of time downtown around then, too?” I pushed.
Shep stiffened. “What’s this about?”
“Just answer,” I pressed. I didn’t want to put any ideas in Shep’s head before he answered me.
He scowled in my direction. “I don’t know. All of us hung out downtown when we were growing up. Nine times out of ten, it was there or at the river. It’s not like there’s a lot to do around here.” Then something shifted in his expression as if he were trying to grab hold of a memory.
“What?” I clipped.
“She and Fallon. They had this volunteer gig. All middle schoolers have to complete a certain number of hours. They helped the town landscaping crew that spring, replanting the beds by each crosswalk.”
I wanted to let a million different curses fly. I’d seen those beds at each intersection. I’d seen crews revitalizing them just a few weeks ago in preparation for spring.
“Why are you asking?” Shep ground out.
“There were other fires around the time of this one,” I said, gesturing to the house.
Shep frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The one in the middle school girls’ locker room.”
“Sure,” he said with a nod. “The firework prank. The principal was pissed.”
I didn’t argue with him. Not yet. “There was that series of dumpster fires downtown that weren’t solved.”
“Okay,” Shep agreed.
“And then the fire in the bathroom at the river trailhead.”
Shep’s jaw worked back and forth as everything came together in his mind. “All places Rho frequented.”
“Exactly.”
“But other people did, too. Fallon and probably half a dozen others,” he argued.
“They didn’t have their house burned to the ground and their family killed.”
Shep stared at me long and hard. “That’s a stretch. Fires happen, and this one was an accident.”
“Maybe,” I muttered. “But I still want to see the fire reports.”
My friend blinked at me. “And you want me to get them. How the hell am I supposed to do that? Unless I tell Trace you’re ex-FBI with a sick hunch.”
Just the idea of that piece of my history coming to light had pressure settling on my chest, making it hard to take a full breath. “You’ll think of something. Get creative.”
“Trace isn’t exactly going to believe that I’m suddenly some sort of criminal version of A Beautiful Mind.”
“Tell him something isn’t sitting right about the fire here. That you did some digging. That’s believable.”
The urge to run fast and far was strong. I wanted to get the hell away from anything that had to do with fucked-up minds and evil of any sort. If someone had been setting fires at places Rho touched, they were definitely both of those things.
Shep cursed. “I’ll do my best, but this means he’ll start sticking his nose into this, too. He’ll be around more.”
I swallowed the aversion to having law enforcement anywhere in my vicinity—too many bad memories. Because if someone had been targeting Rho, that was exactly what she needed.
As I stepped outsideinto the early evening breeze, I ripped off my mask for the final time. God, I hated those things.
The rest of the crew did the same, heading for their various vehicles. But Owen hovered, not moving toward his beat-up pickup.
I finally glanced in his direction.
He crushed his mask in his grip, his gaze dropping to the gravel. “You were right.”
I didn’t speak, just let him get out whatever he needed to.
“About the fucking framing. It smelled like smoke,” Owen grumbled.
I didn’t get the urge to chuckle often these days, but I wanted to right now.
Finally, Owen’s focus lifted. “Sorry I was a dick. I hate this meticulous stuff. It’s why I’m crap at finish work, too.”
“I get it,” I said, letting him off the hook. “It’s a hell of a lot more fun to see big strides every day.”
“Yeah.” He glanced back at the house. “I just get twitchy staying in the same spot for too long.”
My brow furrowed as I thought about some other signs I’d seen from Owen. He might have ADHD. It would make working on a single task for long periods more than challenging. “I’ll switch you up every couple of hours tomorrow. They may not be jobs you’re excited about, but at least you won’t be stuck in one for too long.”
Owen looked back at me. “That’d be chill. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Me and Carlos are heading to the bar. You wanna join?”
I shook my head. “I’m good. But thanks.”
Owen grinned, all teeth. “Why am I not surprised? You’re real committed to that loner vibe, boss.”
I scowled at him, which only made Owen laugh.
“See ya tomorrow,” he called with a wave as he headed for his truck.
I didn’t bother answering. I wasn’t sure what was worse: the childish Owen or the friendly one.
The sound of laughter pulled me around the side of the house until the guest cottage came into view. But the moment it did, I stopped dead.
Rho had set up a sprinkler on the patchy, sort-of grass, likely to help the seed take root to even things out, but Biscuit clearly had other plans. The disproportioned dog barked in happy glee as he attacked the jets of water.
“Biscuit!” Rhodes yelled, no animosity in her voice. “Come!”
The dog ran toward her but then darted away. She dove at him, trying to catch his collar, but she missed and landed directly in the sprinkler’s path.
She shrieked as the surely cold water blasted her, then dissolved into more laughter. “This was exactly what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
Biscuit barked in answer.
Rho leapt over the sprinkler to chase him. The two slipped into some sort of game of tag where only they knew the rules. Rho’s wild brown hair was slicked down, and her tank and shorts were plastered to her body. But she looked…happy.
A foreign feeling shifted through my chest, one I didn’t particularly welcome. But I couldn’t help but be drawn closer—toward that light and chaos.
Biscuit barked as he caught sight of me, then ran in my direction. He stopped just shy of me and shook. I wouldn’t have thought it possible for a dog that wasn’t all that large to have that much water in his fur, but I was soaked in a matter of seconds.
Rho’s hand flew to her mouth, her gasp quickly turning into giggles as she took me in.
“Are you laughing at me?” I gritted out.
She smiled wide. “I’d never.”
I scowled at her, my eyes narrowing. “If you trained your dog to obey your commands, this would’ve never happened.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” I clipped.
In a move so swift I didn’t have a prayer of escaping, Rho bent, grabbed the sprinkler, and pointed it directly at me. “What about this? Could I have trained this away from happening?”
Biscuit barked and leapt in the air, loving the new game.
The freezing water streamed over me, and I found myself running before I could think about it.
Rho shrieked as I dove for her, grabbing her around the waist and forcing her into the sprinkler jets. “It’s freezing!”
“You think?” I yelled.
“Uncle! Uncle!” she screamed.
I hauled her out of the water but kept my grip firm.
Rho shoved her wet hair from her face, her hazel eyes locking with mine. Her breath hitched, and her gaze dropped to my lips.
Her breasts rose and fell with each inhale and exhale, pressing against my chest—so much heat despite the fact that we’d both been doused with ice water.
I needed to let her go. Step back. But I couldn’t. All I could do was stare into those witch eyes. “You don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Reckless.”
It was one that could leave us both in ruins.